But it got me thinking about how those of us in the tourist industry treat the historic places we visit and bring visitors to.  As readers of our blog and others who follow us on Twitter and Facebook will know,  we are based in the small north Meath town of Oldcastle, close to the Loughcrew Cairns, or Sliabh na Caillí as they are often known.  One of the things that led us to set up our business was the simplicity and openness of the cairns, and other nearby sites of immense historical importance, such as Fore Abbey in neighbouring Co. Westmeath.  What I mean by openness is quite straightforward – these two sites (and indeed many like them throughout Ireland’s north-east) are simply THERE, anyone can visit them at any time.  I have been up to the cairns in all seasons, sometimes I have been the only person up there.  And that is a pretty special experience I can tell you.

You don’t need to make an appointment to visit the cairns, or Fore Abbey, or indeed Monasterboice (one of the sites Prof Smyth refers to), they are simply there, in the Irish countryside, as they have been for hundreds and, in the case of the cairns, thousands of years.  Inevitably time, weather and religious and political upheavals have taken their toll on such places but that to me adds to their interest.  Surely we don’t want to preserve such places in aspic!  I like the fact that at Loughcrew, you can sit on the cairns themselves, you can wander around at your leisure and absorb the atmosphere.  You don’t have to pay to visit them and you can spend as long as you like there.  Rather a different visitor experience from that at Newgrange, where visitor access is tightly controlled and there is not the same freedom to explore (in my opinion anyway) as there is at Loughcrew.  But which is the best way?  Is there a risk of damaging our heritage by allowing these places to be so open?

Now I do believe everyone should visit Newgrange, it is quite simply breathtaking.  But it is not as accessible in some ways as Monasterboice, Loughcrew or Tara.  And that leads me back to my earlier wonderings – is there one best way in which to preserve, protect and experience the vast richness of our built heritage?  In his article Alfred Smyth bemoans the (and I have to agree) appalling signage at Monasterboice and Slane.  There is nothing to really give the visitor a taste of all that these sites have to teach us.  A visitor arriving at these sites with little or no prior knowledge would in all likelihood leave in the same state, unless they are accompanied by a guide who knows something of the history of what they are seeing.  Is this really the visitor experience we want people to have?  Yes, it is vital we protect and preserve our heritage – if not it simply will not survive – but we also need to celebrate it.  Our heritage needs to speak to the 21st century and beyond.

So, what do you think?  We want to show people the richness of heritage and natural beauty that our part of the world has to offer.  Are we right to champion unfettered access  – but with vastly improved signage and information! – or should we go for a more controlled approach?  We’re keen to hear what you think, so its over to you.

Like so many others, when I first encountered the cairns I was overwhelmed by what I found. The intricacy of the art, the majesty of the site and the views – especially on a clear day – are astounding. The whole experience is breathtaking every time I go up there, and that’s not just because of the climb from the car park!!

I feel very lucky to live so close to such an ancient and magical site. Imagine that you lived just two and a half miles from Stonehenge, or Machu Picchu and could go there anytime you wanted, day or night, 365 days a year, and just sit there absorbing the essence of these places. Now you have some idea of how we feel about living in Oldcastle. I am proud of the fact that the Loughcrew cairns are largely unspoilt and that visitors from all over the world can come and see them in the raw, as it were.

But I love living here for more than just the cairns. I like the fact that I can walk the mile from my house into Oldcastle and recognise most of the people I encounter along the way. I like the fact that Oldcastle’s shopkeepers know you by name. I like that there is no big shopping centre or mall in Oldcastle. In fact there aren’t really any chainstores, no Boots or Next or Argos, no Tesco’s, no Eason’s, no Harvey Norman.  I know some people would bemoan the absence of such temples of consumerism, but I like that Oldcastle is still a traditional unspoilt north Meath town.  In fact the basic layout of the town has not changed since the eighteenth century.

Liam Tuite, a native of Oldcastle, who is now a renowned architect, gave a talk in Oldcastle at the end of April as part of the Laurence Gilson Commemoration Weekend. Its fair to say that he really opened people’s eyes to the range of architecture we walk past every day in this corner of north-west Meath. You can hear Liam’s talk  and see the buildings and other structures he was talking about here

But a town, or any settlement, is more than just the sum of its buildings.  It is people that make a community and it is people that both create and experience pride in their place.  Last Wednesday, we were involved in a small way in Oldcastle’s presentation to the judges from the Pride of Place competition.  There is more information about the competition here.  It was beyond our wildest hopes (rather than the blarney this time!) to see so many members of the community at the event upstairs from the town’s library.  Women and men, children, older people, members of the immigrant community, well over 200 people crowded into the room to show their pride in their town.  Local clubs, groups and organisations were on hand to explain the activities they do and the judges had plenty to look at in the information boards each group had prepared.

After some chat with the community and displays of Irish dancing by local children, the judges headed off for a tour of the area taking in the majesty of the Loughcrew Cairns, the history and splendour of Loughcrew House and Gardens, and many community projects.  They arrived back for more tea and chat before leaving Oldcastle.

Later that evening, there was a perfect example of a community coming together.  The local athletics club, St. Brigid’s of Ballinacree, had organised a 5k run and walk to raise funds for  pallative care services and in memory of a very popular woman from the area.  One of the organisers told me the next day they had been hoping for 50-100 people to take part.  I can only guess at their surprise and pleasure when 516 people turned out, some pushing buggies, others with wheelchairs, lots of children, all of them taking the route around the town and raising money for a very worthwhile cause in the process.   I was standing with my little daughter and a couple of neighbours to cheer everyone on and ended up with aching arms from all the clapping!

I ended the day feeling very proud to be part of such a vibrant community, home to organisations ranging from Active Retirement to the GAA to the Le Chéile festival to Equivox writers group.  And that is just the first few that spring to my mind.  Oldcastle may not be as big as Navan or Cavan, may not be as well known as Kells or Trim, but it is a friendly community of people who are lucky enough to live in such an amazing spot.

The Tidy Towns Committee deserve to be singled out here as it was they who co-ordinated Oldcastle’s entry into the Pride of Place competition and who have all worked so hard to keep the town looking well.  I really hope all their hard work pays off.

So we won’t know the results until the autumn, and we do genuinely wish well to everyone taking part, but I can safely say this will be an even prouder little town if we win.  Good luck Oldcastle!!!!

But did you ever stop to think when all this parading and excess of green began?  17 March did not become a public holiday in Ireland until 1903.  There are various reports as to when the first St. Patrick’s Day parade in Ireland took place.  The Baltimore Sun reported in 1927 that the Free State Army had paraded in Dublin “before vast crowds”.  In 1934, the Ottawa Citizen reported that the new volunteer army paraded and in some parts of Dublin there were also parades by the Blueshirts.  So it seems that the early Irish parades were a very formal, militaristic affair.   Rather different from the all-singing, all-dancing parades we are used to today!

There are claims that the first St. Patrick’s Day parade ever was in Boston in 1737 and was organised by the Charitable Irish Society who were in a Boston tavern and decided to mark the day by walking en masse through the streets and inviting people to join them.  Fact or fiction?  Myth or history?  We’ll probably never know for sure.

This year a number of iconic buildings and structures around the world went green to mark St. Patrick’s Day: London Eye and Battersea Power Station, the Empire State Building, Sydney Opera House and closer to home, the Spire of Loyd near Kells was also illuminated to mark the day.

Here in Ireland – in common with much of the Celtic world – we have (or had) four seasonal celebrations – or maybe observations is a better way to describe them – where the changing of the seasons was marked by certain rituals and practices.  Collectively these were known as the cross-quarter days.  Some of them are still fairly well known, albeit under different guises, and some of them have been largely subsumed by Christian feastdays and holy days. 

The four cross-quarter days are Imbolc, Bealtaine, Lughnasa and Samhain.  These occur on the first days of February, May, August and November respectively.  The more alert among you will have spotted that 1st Feb is better known now as St. Brigid’s Day and that 1st Nov is All Souls Day – allied to Hallowe’en the day before (31st Oct if anyone’s trying to keep up).  Imbolc is probably the least well-known of these festivals amongst the wider public.  Bealtaine falling as it does on May Day still resonates with a lot of people and Lughnasa is well known under a variety of names, Garland Sunday, Garlic Sunday… and of course Brian Friel’s play introduced Lughnasa to a whole new audience.  Samhain is so intertwined with Hallowe’en that it has never been forgotten.

Imbolc in Irish tradition heralds the arrival of Spring (as Bealtaine welcomes in Summer, Lughnasa is the beginning of Autumn and Samhain is the first day of Winter).  So what happens at Imbolc?  Well thats kind of hard to say partly because a lot of the old traditions and practices have been lost and other ones have taken their place.  Many of you will have seen or even made Brigid’s Crosses (and if anyone wants to learn there’s a good video here ) for example.  But also, there are as many different ways of celebrating a festival as there are people!

Imbolc is seen traditionally as the start of the farming season, for many it has a special link to dairying and sheep.  As the beginning of spring it is associated with new life, new growth, new beginnings….  

Its Imbolc today and the sun is shining, bulbs are beginning to emerge from the cold darkness of winter, and there is a feeling of resurgence.  Whatever way you choose to mark the feast of Imbolc, whether by working in the garden and encouraging the new life to come through, or by taking some time to think about new beginnings in your own life, or by just enjoying the arrival of Spring, you are taking part in an ancient observation.  Rituals and celebrations may change in content and style over the years but the survival of the festival is in itself a reason to celebrate!

If you want to see what we are planning to do this weekend to celebrate Imbolc, just look  here

We’ve had a very early – and  very cold – start to deep winter here at Loughcrew this  year. Along with many other parts of Europe we’ve had freezing Arctic winds blow down on us, blasting us with snow, sleet and very cold temperatures. The whole country is covered in a white, fluffy blanket of snow for almost a whole week now.

Because we’re not used to it, it’s the main topic of conversation –  top news item on radio and television. People are making heroic efforts to keep the country moving. Bus drivers getting as far along roads as they can, council workers out gritting and salting main highways, neighbours pulling each other out of ditches, even the army called in to get hospital staff in to work.

But up here at Sliabh na Caillí (Loughcrew)  it’s a world away from all the hustle and bustle. Up here the contours of the land are softened and smothered by a layer of sparkling snow. Walking up the hill it was as if someone had strewn a giant handful of diamonds that shone and glistened on the blue white snow. The snow folded itself in shapes around the fences, covered the withered stalks of last year’s thistles and lay like fleece on the ancient stones.

The sky is purest blue, the air sharp and clean. The snow bearing clouds have moved on south and a low and golden winter sun shines in a crystal clear sky. It’s windy too – the air burns exposed ears and cheeks and loose snow eddies and flurries in the most exposed spots. But up here you can take the deepest breath and drawn in the cleanest air. So cold you can feel it moving into your lungs, clearing, exhilarating, enlivening.

You can climb to the top of Cairn T and it’s like standing on top of the world. Sixteen counties they say you can see on a clear day – and they don’t get much clearer than this. From the Cooley to the Wicklow mountains; from the Ben of Fore to the Hill of Slane; from Lough Sheelin to the Tower of Lloyd; from the wind turbines of Fermanagh to … could those be the Slieve Blooms in the distance? Hard to tell, but easy to believe.

What a place to live. What a place to visit.

Carrickbrack & Carnbane West bathed in the evening light

As autumn gently starts to fall around us and  yet another timeless astronomical signpost approaches, it seems like no time at all since I watched the summer solstice sun set at Loughcrew.

It was a magical June evening – soft, warm and golden. As I left the carpark and puffed my way up the steep path on Carnbane East I paused to catch my breath at a perfectly placed bench. I’m more normally on my way up the mountain in the early morning  when the sun’s light shining from the east casts a bright yellow haze. I was totally unprepared for the sight of the golden blanket which lay across the surrounding fields and hills. Looking across to Carrickbrack it seemed to be ablaze in an orange light, with the folds and creases of the land showing up in totally unfamiliar patterns.

Having caught my breath I proceeded the rest of the way up to Cairn T which lies at the summit of Carnbane East. More closely associated with the Spring and Autumn Equinox when the rising sun illuminates the highly decorated backstone,  on this fine mid-summers evening Loughcrew was proving to hold a different kind of enchantment.

Solstice Sunset, Cairn S, Loughcrew

A sky as big and as wide as anything you’d find in the Big Sky country of Montana, USA was filled with shades of blue, purple and apricot. Wisps of peachy clouds stretched  from horizon to horizon while below them the lakes of county Cavan became golden pools of light. Not a breath of air stirred and the silence was only broken by the song and swooping of skylarks high above the hills of Sliabh na Cailli (Hill of the Witch).

Crouched among the stones of Cairn S and just as I thought things couldn’t get any better, I turned to see a crescent moon rising hanging in the pure blue sky behind me.  Spectacular doesn’t really do it justice and if I hadn’t had my camera with me, I’d have hardly believed it myself.

Moonrise at Loughcrew

I wasn’t alone up there on the hill that evening. Some were just enjoying the evening air, others marking the turning of the year in silent or in songful vigil. Loughcrew is like that. It takes all comers –  ramblers and healers, day trippers and historians, pagans and picnicers, archaeologists and sightseers, wizards and worshippers.

The Autumn Equinox will take place this year on 20, 21 and 22 September at dawn which is approximately 7.15am. Guides from the Office of Public Works will be on hand to give access to Cairn T where, if it’s a fine morning, will be filled with morning light as it has been twice a year for the last 5,000 years. It’s fabulous, it’s free and it’s part of the ancient heritage of Meath – the royal county.

Cairn T, Loughcrew, Oldcastle, Co. Meath

Digging Spuds

For starters you’ve got to dig your bed. I did try a ‘no-dig’ method one year, but it was a disaster. The resulting spuds were the size of marbles and not worth the effort. And there’s no point in digging it one fine summer’s day. You’ve got to get out there in March in the wind and rain, muffled up to the eyeballs in wellies and a woolly jumper. And of course if you’re doing the job properly, after fifteen minutes or so of digging, you’ll have to start peeling off the layers as the steam rises off you in the cold air.

So  you have your spuds planted with a bit of luck by April at the lastest and as you wait for the shoots to appear above ground you can contemplate all those lovely baked or roasted potatoes – or, and there’s nothing like it in the world – a plain boiled potato with a knob of butter and a sprinkle of salt. And if you’ve grown it yourself it tastes even better.

Potatoes don’t like to be ignored while their growing either. You have to watch them like a hawk – make sure they’ve plenty of earth covering them as they grow and swell beneath the ground. Again, not a job for the faint hearted – but at least the days are getting warm as you walk along the drills topping them up with fresh earth.

With the folk memory of the famine still in our bones, we Irish are paranoid about blight. And rightly so I guess – we live mostly in a damp wet country – perfect growing conditions for potato blight. It can sweep in across your garden overnight. Where one day you have thick lucious stalks on your potatoes, standing tall and proclaiming the floury swellings beneath the ground. Next morning it’s as if the black death itself had laid a hand over them.

Black, musty, slimy blight struck my spuds in late July. It was the coldest wettest July on record they said, so I might have been expecting it. But still it’s had when you’ve put in all that work and it looks like you’re not going to reap the rewards of your labour.

The Harvest

But it does give  you pause for thought. What if I was living in this same spot in 1847 – depending on this small crop to feed my family? What if potato blight meant starvation, emigration or death for me or my children? The traces of  ’lazy beds*’ can see be seen on the slopes of Loughcrew just above my own garden. A reminder of darker harsher times in this beautiful country.

So blight for me is not a disaster, nor anything like it. For a start I am not a subsistence tenant farmer depending on this crop for my existence. And today’s potato varieties are cultivated to be blight resistant and with some swift remedial action, I reckon I’ll have a nice few dinners from my small harvest!

*Lazy Beds were like a 19th century equivalent of our modern ‘no dig’ beds – albeit used with more success than I’ve ever managed!

The Fleadh Cheoil is the biggest event of the year for fans of Irish traditional music, singing and dancing. This year it’s being hosted by Beyond the Blarney’s neighbouring county of Cavan and we can feel the buzz already zinging over the hills and across the lakes over to us here in Oldcastle.

It’s kind of hard to describe a Fleadh (it’s the Irish word for Festival) to anyone who hasn’t been. It’s one of those events that’s more than the sum of its parts. There is the set programme of course – concerts, ceilis, classes and workshops which attract the best of teachers, pupils and listeners to the various venues. You can check them all out at www.fleadh2010.ie.

Then there are the ‘unofficial’ events – organised around the fringes of the Fleadh itself. Every pub, hotel and cross-road in the county will be hosting a sing-song or a hooley of some description. Everyone wants a piece of the action.

Photo: Annie Briody

And then …  and then there are the events that aren’t events at all really. And this is where it gets interesting. Then there are the ‘sessions’. A session is kind of like a pre-cursor to the modern day flash mob. Somehow or another musicians seem to know where and when to gather. Word spreads through the atmosphere and before you know it,  a bunch of musicians of all shapes, sizes and talents has taken hold of a corner in a pub and holding out against all comers, will play for as long as they’re let.

The session will ebb and flow over the course of an evening. A fiddle player might be on to the way to somewhere else, and passing the door, hear the music and be led by an irresistible urge to join in for a few tunes. The much maligned bodhran player will prowl the edges of the circle waiting his or her chance to take a seat. Someone will call for a set of spoons from behind the bar and clatter away till good manners forces him to stop.

So is it any wonder that Beyond the Blarney is off to the Fleadh! We’re taking our ‘Singing Ireland’s Story’ workshop into the heart of Cavan town. We’re setting up at 8pm in the Farnham Arms Hotel and it says on the poster that we’ll be there till 10pm ….  but I have my doubts. Fleadh fever will probably kick in, and Ireland’s story as told in song is a long and hearty one. So if  you’re planning on joining us – be prepared for a long night!

For more on what to expect – read all about it here : www.beyondtheblarney.ie

Ballinlough Community Centre, Ballinlough, Co. Meath

I pulled open the curtains with some trepidation yesterday morning. Notoriously unreliable, the forecast had been for rain, showers and some sun. Obviously they like to cover all bases at the Met Office during a typical Irish summer.

In typical Beyond the Blarney fashion our Rock Art of Loughcrew Cairns workshop involved more than sitting indoors talking, listening and drawing. The day would involve a trip up Sliabh na Cailli to view the amazing rock art both inside and outside the Cairns. Being the highest point in county Meath, it can be a windy spot at the best of times – so good, or at least reasonable, weather makes it an all the more enjoyable experience.

But the Goddess (or Cailleach) was on our side and diverted what rain there elsewhere.

The morning session was devised and delivered by visual artist Michelle Boyle.  Her background as an anthropologist provided new insights and fired up some fascinating ideas and conversations about the motivations of our megalithic ancestors.

Busy at the Art Workshop

Getting down and dirty we then got the chance to create some art works of our own which gave us an opportunity to really ‘ look’ at the art and explore the shapes and mystery for ourselves.

All this is hungry work of course and necessitated lots of tea and cakes and a hearty lunch which fortified us for the walk to the summit of Carnbane East.

All the pictures and drawings in the world cannot compare to standing in a place so ancient. Seeing them stand in the landscape and touching them with your bare hands as you try to imagine yourself in their place is a very special experience.

At the 'Hag's Chair', Loughcrew with OPW Guide

With plenty of time to ask questions from the very knowledgeable OPW (Office of Public Works) guides, there is also time to just have a quiet wander around the whole site, to just stand and look out over the rolling plains of Meath to Tara, Slane, Uisneach, Fore – and many of the other ancient sites of the Ancient Province of Meath.

The day is rounded off at Loughcrew Gardens with (what else!) more tea and cakes and a stroll through the beautiful historic gardens.

Check here for more information about upcoming Beyond the Blarney Tours and Workshops.